Today, on the drive to work, I had the distinct pleasure of being the #1 car in a three car chain-reaction accident.
Same old story: I had to stop short approaching an intersection. Of course, as soon as I am able to stop without hitting the car in front of me, I check the rearview. The car behind me stops close, but the Suburban behind her isn’t able to stop in time. Boom leads to tap and my 7-8 year old plastic rear bumper crumbles.
Nobody was hurt, but we had a fun time waiting 20 minutes for Broomfield Police to arrive only to tell us, “Oh, this is actually City of Westminster, so just hang out until they get here.”
Ten more minutes and we get to sit in the Accident Investigation van to file the report.
And now I get to deal with getting a new bumper.
Good times.
Thanks for calling and letting me know.
Blah blah blah. Why do you think I have this web site?
I’m warming my hands at the love emimating from the embers of your relationship.
We call that ‘communication skills’. Sheet, at least nobody was hurt. I’d still like to blame the Suburban driver and bring a small curse upon her, but only if you give me permission.
Well, first off, the Suburban was a dude.
Secondly, he took it all like a stand up guy, so I gots no ill will.
We’ll see how it is to get his insurance company to fix my bumper…
I’m with da Kine. I say we show up to that motherfuckers doorstep with some lead pipes and show him how they do things downtown.